The Last Time I saw Evan
by KittyKate
Summary: Evan and Pietro sad friendship one-shot - slash is there if you want it.


Disclaimer: I don't own it A/N: Okay, this is just an idea I had. This is not slash - at least not hard slash - but the possiblility is there if you want it. Basically, though, I just wrote this for me so I could work on my other fic.  
  
The Last Time I saw Evan  
  
  
  
It's strange to have last seen him there. We used to fight daily on these fields; after school, lunchtime, whenever we ran into each other with no witnesses and time to spare. I used to hate him there.  
  
We'd run into each other, always at random; never thinking that the other might have been looking for us, just thinking that we had another chance to prove who was best. Who was strongest, who was the better man.  
  
Or mutant. Take your pick.  
  
I saw him there because we ran into each other, the same as so often before, one looking for the other, both seeking and finding in mirrored minds.  
  
We're funny like that.  
  
I'm the bright one - in more ways than one - the one who shines, bright and loud and in your face, ready with the wit and charm. He's the darker one, though not in an evil, medieval afraid-of-the-dark kind of way. He's just quieter, more uptight, shy and silly and completely oblivious to how wonderful he is. When we used to talk, long hours while the others thought we were fighting, he would often worry over whether he was doing things right, living up to expectations. I thought it was funny that I was so like him, in that way - we both care so much about our family, making them happy.  
  
That last time was one of those many peaceful meeting; I don't know how that happened, how we became friends again, I guess religious or romantic types would say that it was fate, meant to be, all that shit. What I know is that we just fought too much, had one bad brawl, and ended up hanging around each other long enough to talk. We just sat there - well, he sat, I sort of lay on the ground, nursing a bent ankle. But that whole night, we just stayed there and talked. First, it was just him, all, "why do you hate me?" "why do we keep doing this?" "why can't you and your friends just leave us alone?" I mean, I guess the second question was a pretty reasonable one, which was one of the reasons I couldn't answer it, but the other two sorta shocked me. I mean, me hate him? I never hated anyone in my life, not even my father, who might have deserved it. I certainly didn't hate him, I just needed to fight him. Test him. Find out which of us really was the better man.  
  
It's weird how these things turn out. After that first night, when we met we just started kind of.. talking. It was weird to have a normal conversation with him after so many years of taunting and testing him - I don't even know why I started testing him, but I lost a good friend when I did. It was amazing to have his opinion again, to just rant and rave about nothing with someone who didn't live in the boarding house like I did. We didn't talk much at school - with no time and the friends we had, it was too much trouble to try - but every afternoon we'd meet, and after awhile we met more than that. Nights and weekends we'd ditch our friends, trying to see each other. We were both happier together than we'd been in a long time. I'm glad he was happy. I wanted so much for him to be happy, sometimes, it was all I could do to keep from hugging him when he was down or something. I know it sounds stupid, but I really cared about the guy.  
  
I cared a lot.  
  
And when I saw him that last time, I didn't smile or wave, I just ran up to him - I run like the wind when I'm scared - and told him to leave. Get out of town. Leave the mansion and go somewhere safe, at least for a day. I wanted him to be happy, but I wanted him alive more.  
  
He didn't listen - I should have known he wouldn't, but worry and the need not to can make you believe some weird shit. I saw him that day, the day I told him to run away from here, and I saw him again a week later - but it wasn't him.  
  
Human bodies don't possess the qualities that make someone a human. They don't have the light of a friend's eyes or the sound of their smile or the way they laughed when you said something dumb. Human bodies have none of this, which is probably why every religion has some type of soul.  
  
The bodies collected from the fallen the day of Magneto's attack had no laughter, no soul. Every one of them had fallen, killed quickly by that plague he secured from the Morlocks.  
  
I wish he hadn't needed the bodies, hadn't needed their mutant DNA for his laboratories and experiments. I wish Evan could be buried somewhere so at least I could talk to him or mourn over his grave. I keep seeing him in my mind the way the light shone in his eyes when we laughed about school or bands, but all I can think about - the thing that keeps running through my mind - all I can think about is the last time I saw Evan.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Review please!!! 


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